Supporting those who grieve

In the initial days, weeks, and months after a loss of any kind, the grieiving ones find themselves surrounded with love, support, kind words, hugs, and sympathy from all over. As a year approaches, we often find that people again are sympathetic for that day or two, and then, it is dropped. After the one year mark, you are expected to be okay. You are expected to move on, to forget about the loss, to not talk about it anymore. That is of course, all of these things happen if your loss was "noticeable" to others. People are more likely to be okay with extended grieving if it's a spouse, a parent, a child that lived on this earth. People are NOT as likely to be okay with extended grieving for a pregnancy loss, or loss of a baby who did not have a chance to live on earth or who did not live a long time on this earth. Why? Because we don't want to acknowledge that people lose babies. Every day I offer myself as a source of support for grieving families and parents, and I see so many things that infuriate me and break my heart when it comes to how OTHER people handle the grieving person.

I have noticed that the longer time goes on since I lost Kylie, the less people want to talk about her, the less people want to support us in our grief, the less people want me to share her story. I have found that people have a hard time being sympathetic now that we are three years into this journey. At her one year angelversary, so many people commented on our Facebook walls, expressing their concern, sorrow, sympathy, and hurt for us. Three years? Not near so many. Three years for Chris? Almost no one acknowledged his pain as a father for the child he so dearly loves but could not protect and save. 

It made me think about things and grief and the unfair time frames we put on ourselves and on others. We have all been told in grief support groups that true heavy grieving can last on average 1-2 years, but in reality, grief lasts a life time. We will always miss our children, our loved ones. We will always have a difficult time at the holidays knowing there is a missing seat at the table. We will know in our family pictures that someone isn't there that should be. We will recognize the emptiness on family vacations, on dinners out. We will always know what other people do not see, and that is the pain of living each day without the precious child that was supposed to be there. 

I'm not saying people should dote on baby loss moms more than anyone else. But what I have come to notice is that as time goes by, we forget that moms are hurting and that families are hurting, and then we think, because we have moved on and are no longer affected by the pain that these families have, or because they don't talk about it as much anymore, that they have moved on too. And that isn't the case. We expect them to "magically" be okay in a certain amount of time, and then we down them for what we will never understand. 

My best friend lost her mother in September of this year. A month later, she lost her grandfather. In two months, she had two significant losses. As she was dealing with her mom's funeral, she had to take care of her grandfather's health and get him to a hospital, and she handled most of his health decisions and care for the next month until he passed. As I stood by her, trying to be any kind of support I could be, I noticed that for her mother's passing- people poured out love and support for the loss of her mom in those initial days and weeks. But even now, three short months later, the support and thought of her mom isn't there. We talk a lot about things I used to say (and still do) since losing Kylie, and how she understands them so much more now because it's true. It's like, everyone else moves on, and you are stuck standing still in this horrible bubble that is reality. And the hardest part for  me to watch was how few people came to support her in the loss of her grandfather compared to her mother. Not that it is a competition, but it just shows to me how people handle dealing with loss and how people view it. 

Less than a month ago, I lost my granddaddy, a man who has been a hero in my life since day one. He is a man I have always put on a pedestal, a man I have always been so fond of. From the day I was born, he was my number 1 fan, and I spent so much time with him while growing up. Every Saturday, he came to see me. When I was younger and went to the babysitter's, he would pick me up early almost every day. As I got older and could drive, I would go eat lunch with them on school holidays and during the summer, or just go visit on Saturdays. When Jaycee, Nick, Kylie, and Bryleigh all came into our lives, we spent time visiting with the kids. Granddaddy and Granny went to the NICU multiple times of Kylie's sweet little life to visit her and spend time with her. My Granddaddy was a special, special man, and every single day, I have cried. I have hurt, I have missed him, and I have wished so much that things were different. He died on my 29th birthday. For 29 years, I was blessed with the best grandfather anyone could ever have. He truly, truly, truly loved his family, and he would do anything for any of us. He was so proud of us, and he loved his grandchildren and great-grandchildren more than any words could ever express. And I did have some support, and words of kindness and sorrow, but not nearly as much as I would have thought, and barely anyone checks to see how I am feeling, how my sister is feeling, how my mom and dad are feeling, or my uncles, aunts, or cousin is feeling. Each day, Jaycee tells me she misses her Granddaddy, and my heart breaks because no one is checking on HER and her pain... 

When people die at an old age, it is easy to think that people just deal with it easily and get over it more quickly, so we just don't offer much support for them because they have to go back to work so soon, have to get back into the routine of things, have to care for their children, have to do this, that, and the other. I had to go back to work just a few days after Granddaddy's passing. It's like going back to work makes it official, and people expect that you're ready to live life and move on and go on to being "normal." However, it's not that simple. Life doesn't just go back to normal. You have to find a new normal. And just because someone gets back into the daily routine because they have to pay their bills and provide for their families doesn't mean that they aren't still hurting, suffering, and sad. 

When people die suddenly, unexpectedly, young, middle-aged, or old, it is a bit easier for people to offer more support- they are shocked, too. But soon, the routines of life go back to being normal for them, and it is so easy to forget the pain and suffering that someone is going through internally. 

Do you ever wonder why people stop talking about their own grief? It's because they've been told they should stop talking about it, or they've been made to feel that talking about it isn't  healthy, or they've been told that it's time to move on. It is so easy to make a grieving person feel uncomfortable, and so many people do a good job of hurting the grievers more than helping them. By telling someone "it's time to move on," or "no one wants to hear about it anymore," "are you ever going to get over it?" "don't you have anything else to talk about?" "your mom wouldn't want you to be sad all the time" ... the list just goes on... by telling someone those things, you are hurting them. A huge way to get through dark grief is to talk about it, to talk about the person you miss, etc. 

Another problem I see comes with miscarriage. People have a hard time accepting that mothers can be and should be emotionally attached to a child they have not yet held in their arms. From the time conception occurs, a new life has formed. A true mother loves her children no matter what, and loves them from even before she conceives; seeing your baby on ultrasound, hearing a heart beat, seeing a little butter bean, they are all parts of the wonder and joy of motherhood. Knowing that you are carrying such a tiny, perfect life within your womb, a little life that you are responsible for, well, that is just such an overwhelming since of pride, responsibility, and excitement. For mothers who miscarry, guilt is overwhelming. Questions of "what did I do wrong?" "Why couldn't I carry this child?" "What happened?" "How could I have done this differently.." "What if..." "If only.." - those thoughts haunt a mother's mind who would do anything NOT to lose this baby. I have found that those who have had miscarriages get the most hurtful statements, the least understanding comments, and even fewer supporters than any other situation. Why? Because no one else could see/hear/feel what the mother (and father) felt. It is hard to understand what we do not know/see/etc. However, that doesn't meant that they do not hurt, and it doesn't mean that they will ever forget this pain. They need support, and they need to have their losses acknowledged as well. 

Something I haven't told a lot of people, is that when pregnant with Kylie, it seems that we had two babies, TWINS, which caused problems in the beginning of the pregnancy, which is why things started off rocky. It seems, from an ultrasound at my fertility doctor's office after my OB/GYN refused to do an earlier ultrasound (we were concerned about the possibility of twin pregnancy with one being in the uterus and one being in the tube from my symptoms), it seems that there was a baby behind Kylie, and was already not making it- which is called vanishing twin syndrome. The twin was basically absorbed, and though I was so sad because twins would have been amazing, I realize now that that sweet baby was giving Kylie a chance at life. Though my situation isn't the same as others, I essentially lost 2 babies, not just one, and it wouldn't matter now anyway, but the thought of a miscarriage terrified me, and is always in my mind when considering another baby and was when I was pregnant with Bryleigh. 

I say all this to say that anyone who has suffered a loss will always miss their loved one and will always hurt. Just because the person had a long life on earth, or never had the chance to be held or breathe the air on this world, does not mean that the grief is any less and that we shouldn't support our loved ones who grieve. I will always hurt for Kylie, and I will always hurt for Granddaddy. This Christmas, I will be missing both of them for the first time, and though they are together, I ache just thinking about how empty I will feel on that day with no Granddaddy to unwrap presents with. 

Remember that the holidays are difficult for anyone who is missing a loved one... and be there even if it's just to offer a hug and say "I'm always here for you." 

My Granddaddy

Yesterday, on November 28, my 29th birthday, my wonderful Granddaddy left this world to join our Savior in Heaven. The pain and hurt just is so difficult to sort through right now, and I am lost and hurt and broken. But, I have so many amazing memories of my Granddaddy, and I am so grateful that we were so incredibly close. He means the world to me, and we have always had a special bond because I was the first grand child. For nearly 5 years, I was the only grandchild, so needless to say, we spent a LOT of time together.

My dad reminds me often that he just laughs when he thinks about  Granddaddy finding out he was going to be a grandfather. For one, he said he was "too young" to be a grandparent, and then the second thing he said was, "Well, I'm  not going to be one of those doting grandfathers." And my dad just laughed, because the minute I was born, he became that "doting" grandfather, and we've been inseperable ever since.

When I was a little girl, I didn't go to daycare; I went to a babysitter. Nearly every day (at least a few times a week), Granddaddy would pick me up early so we could do things together. Sometimes, we went to the park, or to the train depot downtown. Other times, he would take me back to "the office" (the construction company), to a job site, or to his and Granny's house. When I was little, Granny was the secretary at the office, and so I would sit on her desk and she would paint my fingernails and toenails. I would play store with the office supplies in the cabinets. More importantly, I would sit in Granddaddy's lap in his big blue leather chair at his desk, and we would draw and write, and color, and talk. He let me help him write checks, and he even, for a few summers, paid me to work at the office- I made copies and licked envelopes and stamps (before the pre-sticky ones), and cleaned up. On the days that I spent the night at their house, we would go to the office on Saturday mornings to clean. My FAVORITE part about the office visits? The ice cream man. He drove by in the afternoon, and we could hear him coming, so Granddaddy and I would RUN outside to flag him down, and we'd get an ice cream together. My favorite? Mickey Mouse ice cream (the chocolate ears and all, you know, the awesome stuff). He would get a popsicle sometimes, but it just depended on the day.

I spent a lot of time at their house on the weekends, during the week, etc. Every Saturday night was steak night. Granddaddy had a grill built in to the stove in the house, and he would grill our steaks (filet mignon only) on the grill inside the house (how freakin' cool is that?!) and bake the potatoes in the oven, and I will always remember him tossing the potatoes with his oven mitts because they were so hot... and he would take us outside to the backyard and swing with us, and play croquet with us, and the best yet; we got to shoot a BB gun at a Mr. Clean bottle (or anything we could find, really). Every Halloween, we went to their house- Granddaddy loved walking us around the neighborhood to all his friends and neighbors, the same ones who had watched my dad and uncles trick-or-treat, and many of them made us special candy bags. He would walk with his hands in his pocket, or holding one of our hands. He was so proud of us.

Granddaddy had tea parties with me, and watched us dress up in Granny's costume jewelry and high heeled shoes. He took us shopping, and nearly every time he or Granny saw us, they pulled out a $20 bill or a $10, or anything at all. He always made sure that there was plenty of stuff for us to do, and he came to every event that they could possibly come to. Kindergarten graduations, my DARE graduation in 5th grade, 8th grade graduation, high school, and both of my college graduations.

As we got older, it became more important to go to lunch with Granny and Granddaddy. We would go to a few places, but Granddaddy's favorite seemed to be Long Horn. Red Lobster wasn't far behind. Over the past several years, I would make sure that every school holiday, every summer, and every chance we could, we went to lunch together and enjoyed a meal and good company. He always said, as we left, "the food was good, but the company was even better." One of my most favorite places to visit with him was Big Spring Cafe. Love, love, LOVE going there, and sitting on the stool at the counter beside him. He always seemed so proud to have any of his grandchildren as a lunch date, a breakfast date, a dinner date, or just hanging around.

Growing up, we also had Auburn season football tickets. The WHOLE family- Granddaddy, Granny, Uncle Mark, Aunt Linda, Brad, my parents, me and Sissy... we all sat together for years. Granddaddy would take us to the playground to play when we arrived in Auburn. He would buy us pom-poms at the gift shop. He would cuddle close to us when we were cold, and he would take us to breakfast at the cafeteria... he did everything with us. We loved every minute of being with him.

While many people on the business side, or even older adults in the family, saw the Lanford streak of stubbornness, or the commanding way that he could speak, or the forceful nature he had, that side almost never came out to his grandchildren. He was always gentle, kind, and happy with us. Always.

So many things make me think of Granddaddy. Granddaddy LOVED IBC Cream Soda. He loved Klondike bars. His favorite meal was a steak dinner with baked potato (and again, a filet mignon only). He used to keep strawberry candies AND caramel squares in his office. He preferred water to drink. He always kept Citrus Magic spray in the bathrooms at his house and the office. He loved old westerns and old country music. He loved guitars, and he loved the holiday gatherings with us. He always carried a hanky. Terry's Pizza. Dessert- he had a sweet tooth for sure. Basset hounds. Dress slacks and button up shirts no matter what. Cadillacs with leather seats. Money clips. Auburn football. The list goes on and on...

My heart hurts so bad, but I am so, so grateful that I have 29 years of memories, love, and laughter with one of the most amazing men I've ever met. He demonstrated what a long, happy marriage is about. He held doors open for all women. He called us "doll" and "hun". He loved to play with the kids, and his laugh still echoes in my soul. He would scare the heck out of us with his powerful sneeze, but it always made us giggle.

Three years ago, when my Kylie was born, he and Granny went to visit her many times. And when we lost her, he felt so heart-broken, not only because he lost her, too, but because he couldn't fix my hurt. Even up until last Wednesday, mentioning Kylie put tears in his eyes. He loves her, too, and missed her. My great joy in the midst of all of this hurt is that my Granddaddy is now holding Kylie for the very first time. He is rejoicing in the presence of our Lord, with his great-granddaughter in his arms.

After 5 long, agonizing months, battling with chemo and cancer and sickness, Granddaddy's body is at peace. His soul is resting, and his body is healthy and strong. No more chemo. No more miserable days. No more struggling to get up in the morning. No more "waiting" for something bad to happen. God answered my prayer by healing my Granddaddy's body. I know I will have a lot of spoiling to undo when I finally get to Heaven, but Kylie is going to create memories with her great-granddaddy just like I did with him. Nothing in this world will ever replace either one of them, but knowing them and loving them has changed my heart forever.

What hurts the most...

For the past few weeks, my Granddaddy's health has deteriorated rapidly. We are now possibly down to days before his passing, and my heart is grieving heavily already. My Granny is in the nursing home and doesn't know what is going on, and my Aunt Vera is in a rehab home for her partial hip replacement from last week.

All of this is enough, but the grief is bringing back those bouts of depression and extreme, severe loneliness. The past few days, barely anyone has commented to me. Barely anyone has "liked" my statuses or posts. Barely anyone has said "I'm so sorry you're going through this, Amber." Even the people I am supposed to be closest to haven't either acknowledged this pain at all, or they have not checked on me and what is going on. I have felt so shut out and shut off, and I know some of it is the grief, but other parts of it is reality.

I really want to know what I have done so wrong that makes people look at me differently. I really want to know why people don't acknowledge me or what I've said, or don't feel the need to check in on me. What have I done that is so wrong that people do not like me anymore? Apparently, a lot of people have decided not to "follow" me or see my updates anymore, because many more people used to see and say things about my posts. I feel so alone and forgotten, and completely and utterly hopeless and overwhelmed.

No one truly understands these feelings, because they aren't me, but many people are probably laughing as they read this "oh, she's such a baby... she's so needy... she needs to grow up and get a life." How would you feel if someone who meant so much to you was dying and no one cared about it?

My granddaddy is someone I have looked up to my entire life. He is someone I have spent much of my childhood and adult life with. We would go to lunch, to go shopping, to the train depot, or I'd just stay at their house and visit or spend the night. I went many places, even job sites, with Granddaddy, and at almost 29 years old (my birthday is Wednesday, which makes it all the more difficult), I just want to curl up in my Granddaddy's lap and lay my head on his shoulder while he calls me "doll" and reads me a book or watches tv with me. I want someone to make it all stop, to take the pain away. This all-too-familiar grief had left me for a while... the deep, most painful part of grief, anyway, but I forgot how consuming, how badly it pulls you down and brings you down. No one ever comments on my blog anymore either, so I guess I'm safe to put my emotions out here in my blog because no one will read it. I just, I wish I knew more people cared. I don't expect lots of comments and posts on all that I do- just expected that some people who I thought were dear friends would be more concerned and caring.

So my heart is broken because I'm watching my Granddaddy die, and my heart is broken because I don't have much support in the loss of him. I just cannot take much more of the desperately lonely feelings...

Pride and Joy

God never ceases to amaze me. Really. His love and blessings and mercy just flow over me daily, and I am so grateful for the grace I have found in the love of Jesus. Today, I am just bursting with pride... so much over the past year has been so positive, and it has given me such a happy perspective on life, regardless of the bad things that have happened.

I know I have said numerous times before that God answered my prayers when Kylie was sick; I asked her to be healed, and He gave her the ultimate healing. And with her healing, came the breaking of my heart, but each day, God helps to mend the wounds that still lay gaping and to fix the scars that are still stretching. Her life gave me something that I don't think I would have had in the same way if we had not lost her. I feel that Kylie was put here on earth to place within me a servant's heart. She taught me how important it is to give back, and so I hope that I am honoring her life by doing just that. We help the March of Dimes. We minister to families in their grief. We run a support group for families no matter where they are in the grief process. We run the October 15 Memorial Ceremony here in Huntsville for families who have lost. We are trying to get Kylie's fund up and going. We are doing so much, like making NICU memory boxes and donating special items in her memory. All of this, because of her. And this morning, I received an email from someone I had never met who came across my blog in a search for an angel picture, and my life was touched that someone I had never met, someone I have never crossed paths with, found me and was touched by our story. So God is using our sweet Kylie to reach out to others, to impact others, and I am so grateful that I am able to be in this position to help others and be there for others.

In a different story, Bryleigh is growing like a weed! She is crawling now (she officially crawled on October 21), has 6 teeth, and will be completely on whole milk only after tomorrow. She is saying bye bye and waving, saying ma-ma, da-da, and bah-bah (bottle i believe). She is even giving kisses. She gets excited and giggles when she sees me, and she is learning to eat with a spoon. She is completely off baby food and is trying to pull up to stand. One minute, she was my tiny baby cuddling in my arms, and the next, she is all grown up and doesn't need me as much!

And finally, Jaycee got her very first school report card today. I am so, so proud to be her Mommy. I am so thankful God chose to keep her in our home and in our lives. Without her, I don't know what I'd do. This kid met or exceeded standards in all but one category that she only meets some standards in, and that is in rhyming sounds. I should have seen it coming when I asked her last night what rhymes with mat, and she is like... cat... POGO STICK! Lol. Last night she also started a conversation that went like this:
J: Mom, I love Miss a-Jessca and Micah and the whole family.
Me: Well, that's good. I do, too.
J: When is Micah going to have a baby sister?
Me: Um... well, I guess he isn't.
J: But I have a baby sister and Micah needs a baby sister. Soon I'm going to have a baby brother.
Me: Says who?!?!
J: Me
Me: Where will the baby come from? Because I am NOT pregnant.
J: It will grow in your belly. There's a brother in there now.
Me: No! There is no brother. And plus, we can't just pick what we want. We get whatever God gives us.
J: I'm going to ask God for a baby brother. Can I talk to God about a baby brother?
Me: You can talk to God as much as you want to. You just ask right away.
J: Well, we need to get another bed and put in Bryleigh's room so our brother will have a place to sleep.
Me: No, because there isn't a brother!
J: Well there will be, and I will take good care of him. I will even let him color. No, I won't, because he will bite. I am ready for a brother.
Me: Oh.my.goodness. :/

And so folks, I have three beautiful girls. Three unique girls. Three girls who know how to make my heart swell with pride and my face light up with smiles. Am I a lucky mom or what? These three are definitely MY pride and joy. =)

"Fall down seven times, stand up eight."

"Fall down seven times, stand up eight." - Japanese Proverb

I have been thinking about this statement all day. It is in the front of our novel, Touching Spirit Bear, that we started reading in class today. I wrote in on the board in red, and asked my students to write it down and then respond to it, to tell me what it meant to them in their own words. This was part of their pre-reading, but I have found that this quote has been reverberating in my mind all day long. This evening when catching up on Facebook posts, a friend had this as her status, and told me she had seen it on Twitter.

To me, this quote means that you never, ever, EVER give up. No matter how many times you get knocked down, you HAVE to get back up. Kind of like falling off of a horse... you have to get back on immediately or you never will. If you give up once, there won't be another chance. No matter how many times you fail, you keep trying. Giving up isn't an option.

And so, this quote stood out to me and made me want to write about some things, but first, I thought it would be fitting to post some verses that are related...

Romans 5:3-4 NIV Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope

James 1:3 NIV because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.

Revelation 2:3 NIV You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.

The darkest night is often the bridge to the brightest tomorrow.- Jonathan Lockwood Huie

Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. - Thomas A. Edison

Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent. - Marilyn vos Savant

Every wall is a door. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. - Nelson Mandela


In my life, I have learned that no matter how hard you try, how hard you work, and how much you do, there will be someone there to tear you down, or to try to tear you down. The devil works in so many ways and sneaks his way in and about your lives, trying to destroy the good that God has brought us. No matter what, the devil HOPES that we don't get up that eighth time. He hopes that we treat the wall as a wall, that we never get back up when we fall down, that we don't persevere through hardships and trials in God's name. He hopes that he doesn't have to deal with us growing stronger. He wants us to give up and fail. 

Well, I'm here to say that I am absolutely NOT a quitter. I keep going. I keep trying, and I keep finding a way to make it work. I fight for what I believe in, and I stand up for what is right. I do what I feel is right each day, and I am working really hard on making good decisions and not judging someone else for theirs. The hardest part of anything for me is not taking things so personally, because I tend to internalize and take things so much to heart, even when the intent was not to hurt me or go against me. 

I have worked so hard to get to where I am in life, and I am truly proud of myself for all that I have accomplished. I couldn't be here without the support of the best family in the world and the most amazing friends a girl could have. But most of the time, I don't like to talk about ME. I like to talk about what I'm DOING, because it draws attention to the projects we have going on to support others and help others. My life isn't about me, and what I want. My life's purpose is to give to others, to do for others, and to provide things for others that they wouldn't otherwise be able to get. I want to teach, to reach out, to minister, to guide, and to support others in various situations. That is who I am. I am not selfish. I am not greedy. I am not unkind. 

The hardships that we have endured over the past three years seem small to so many people, but they really do take a toll on a person. No one should have to bury their child, but we had to three years ago. Because of that, my grandparents were in a car accident that caused my granny to need surgery. Unbeknownst to us, anesthesia speeds up the process of dementia/Alzheimer's (we didn't even know she had it), and since then, her health has rapidly deteriorated, causing her to have to move to a nursing home for care. Because of THAT, my granddaddy's health declined rapidly as well, and for a whole year, he was in and out of the hospital, sick, and no hope of a diagnosis, until this June when he was diagnosed with blastic plasmacytoid dendritic neoplasm, and now, we have to come to the grim reality that he will not be with us this time next year. 

Somethign that I learned from Granddaddy many years ago is that you always take pride in what you do and you work hard to keep a high level of effort and success in your projects. My granddaddy's pride, though sometimes frustrating, is one of his greatest traits. Though it sometimes came across the wrong way to me, he always lived what he told me and I never had to look at him and think "why does he say one thing and do another?" He has pride in his appearance, in his construction company, in his sons, in his wife, and most importantly, his grandchildren and great grandchildren. He takes pride in showing us off, in bragging on us and our accomplishments... so much pride that when he talks to us or about us, his eyes sparkle with excitement and youth, something that we don't see very often anymore. He's tired. But, he hasn't given up yet, because it is not in the nature of a Marine of the United States of America to just "give up." 

In honor of my Granddaddy, who taught me so much about living life and being a good person, I have decided that giving up is no longer an option. If he can fight through life and be stubborn (yes, stubborn. It's the number one trait of a person with the last name of Lanford. I have plenty of it myself!) and prideful, and still turn out okay from it all... well, there are some lessons to be learned from it. 

So to everyone who keeps knocking me down with your hurtful words, to everyone who knocks me down because you mock me, talk about me, and laugh at me behind my back... to everyone who tries to hurt me intentionally, to everyone who is jealous of me for some unknown (and ridiculous?) reason, to everyone who tries to lash out at me or my family members because you don't understand us or what we are going through... to everyone who tries to pass false words about me and my missions for parents who have lost... to everyone who wants to drag me down so you can feel better about yourself... 

I won't give up. I refuse. I'm stronger than that. I will keep getting back up. I will keep fighting back. I will keep being ME, and I will no longer apologize for the traits that make me who I am, even if you don't like me. 

I love my children. I love my husband. I love my family, my friends, my job, my life. I love volunteering for the March of Dimes. I love supporting the NICU at Huntsville Hospital. I love being an advocate and resource for parents who have lost a child. I love being able to share our story with others to impact them in positive ways. I love that I have the opportunity to help others every day. 

So, keep on trying to bring me down. Keep trying to make me give up. You are only motivating me to keep trying harder. You are only going to encourage me to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if the journey is slow and difficult. 

I. Will. NOT. give. up. 

Kylie's 3 year angelversary

To my dearest Kylie Brielle,

It is so hard to believe that it has been three years since you passed. Three years since you took your last breath on Earth. Three years since I held you in my arms. Three years since my heart broke beyond all repair. Three years since I told you goodbye, even though I didn't want to.

Sweet angel, so many things have happened and changed in the course of three years. Though my grief is different now than it was 3 years ago, it still hurts so much to know that I have to wait a lifetime to see you again. It is something that I will carry with me forever, and something that will never be forgotten.

Two years ago, if someone had told me I'd be where I am right now, I probably wouldn't have believed them. At one point, I thought my pain was so deep, so raw, so consuming, that I couldn't see past the grief to see what would come out of it. All I knew was that it wasn't fair, that life without you was miserable, that I would give anything to go back and try again. I knew that I hated my life without you, and that I was angry at God for taking you away from me.

Last year, I was a hormonal emotional wreck because I was 35 weeks pregnant with your little sister. I was mourning your loss while preparing for the birth of a new life. It was a very difficult and conflicting emotional time, but one thing remained: the pain was deep, consuming, and aching. However, it was a little bit easier to get through the day. It was a little bit easier to breathe and remember you without feeling like my heart would rip out of my chest.

This year, my body, my heart, and my soul aches without you here. My heart is comforted, though, as well as my soul, because this year, I have a peace in my faith that has helped guide me through this past year of pain. It hurts just as bad today as it did then. It aches just as much as it did one year ago, two years ago. The piece of my heart that left when you died is still missing. That part of me that died with you will never come back. But this year, sweet girl, I have learned so much about you, about me, and about God. This year, I have a renewed faith and a renewed outlook. It doesn't change how much I love you and how much I miss you. I still think I'd do just about anything to have you back. I still wish life was different, that I could kiss your nose any time I wish, that I could reach out and hold you in my arms all night long. But, reality sets in, and I remember that isn't going to happen for a very, very long time.

Your life has inspired me and has changed me. You are the reason I want to help other parents. You are the reason I want to make sure that no one else has to find help when they lose a baby. You are the reason I want to do all kinds of things in your honor and memory. You are the reason I keep putting one foot in front of the other. You are the reason we have Bryleigh. You are the reason we are the Ambassador family for the March of Dimes this year. You are the reason we cherish each second we have as a family. You are the reason we love deeply, speak kindly, and share constantly.

Your LEGACY is love and hope. You are pure and innocent, and you showed such strength and courage in your brief two weeks on earth. You inspire me to be better every day, and you inspire me to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if it seems impossible or too difficult. You have left footprints on my heart, and they will be there for eternity, even when I am long gone from this world. My hope is that your legacy continues to inspire others, to give them hope, and to offer comfort and guidance in the most difficult days a parent could face. Your life lives on through us, and I hope that we have made you proud with all that we have done and will continue to do in the future.

Today, Kylie, I am so honored and so blessed to be your mommy. I am thankful for the peace that comes in knowing you are in the arms of Jesus, and that one day, I will join you and then can raise you as I always dreamed. One day, I will get to rock you to sleep every night, and I can kiss your precious nose all day long. One day, I will be able to look in your gorgeous eyes like I did three years ago, and you will just melt my heart with your sweetness. One day, we will be a family again, all of us, and we can do the things that families do as we walk the streets of gold in eternity.

Until then, I must find some peace and comfort in telling your story, sharing your life with others. I must find hope in talking with other parents who have been chosen to join this group that we didn't sign up for. I must find inspiration and strength from you, from your life, and from your legacy. I must keep going, because I am not just a mommy of an angel, but I am a mommy to three beautiful, unique, precious girls.

Thank you for being my daughter and for showing me a love that I never knew existed. Thank you for watching over us all and for protecting us. Thank you for guiding me and inspiring me with every day that passes. There isn't a moment that goes by that you are not on my mind. Every day, I miss you. Every second, I love you. My love for you stretches far beyond any physical limitation. You will always be in my heart, and no one can tear apart the bond of mother and child, even across a distance like Heaven and Earth.

Happy 3rd angelversary, Kylie Brielle Keith. I hope that you are celebrating in the biggest of ways in Heaven. Please, sweet angel, be with me tomorrow, as well as your daddy, your Grammy and Paw Paw, your sisters, Aunt Ashley, Uncle Jon, Nick, and all our friends and family as we mourn your passing and try to get through the day. You are a very special little girl who is loved and missed by many, many people.

I love you to Heaven and back, and I miss you just as much.

With my most sincere love,

Your Mommy

Keep on keeping on...

Mrs. Ibezim, my 8th grade Science teacher, didn't teach us much about Science. Seriously. We had a folder for vocabulary, a folder for section questions, a folder for chapter questions, and a folder for end of chapter reviews. Then, we went through the book and taught ourselves and then had a test on it. However, I DID learn a lot about life. Morals. Values. Sayings to last a lifetime. (MXR peeps will remember: You need to get your ducks in a row! and... Put that in your pipe and smoke it!) Though she may have been intimidating, though she may have been unconventional, she loved her students and she taught each group that came through what agape love meant, what it meant to truly love yourself, your family, your friends, and yes, even God. She loved God with a passion, and it was okay for her to talk about it then. (Don't think anyone would have ever done anything anyway). She also taught us about respect. She sang to us. It was fun, but now looking back, it was also very important in my development before going to high school. Mrs. Ibezim probably knew what she was doing that year. I think she knew she was teaching us greater lessons that we would appreciate later on, and that we needed to hear those things to survive high school and the world beyond. I know that her life lessons have stuck with me, and they come out in the strangest situations, but always at the perfect time. For instance, as the title of this blog posts suggests, I'm just trying to: "Keep on, Keeping on."

Today I am overwhelmed with things on my plate. Between Kylie's 3rd birthday, Bryleigh's 1st birthday, October 15, and Kylie's fund, along with being a mommy, a wife, a teacher, and everything else.... I've just gotten a bit disappointed. I know people see me coming and run because they are afraid I'm going to ask them to buy another thing or participate in another fundraiser, but fundraisers are the only way to keep up with the things that mean so much to me. We are barely making ends meet ourselves, and I HATE not being able to participate in the things my friends are doing. I know people are mad at me because they think I am being selfish, that I never want to buy from them but want everyone to buy from me, but that's not it. I absolutely would help every cause possible if I had the means to do so. Unfortunately, my money situation won't allow me to even help myself. Trust me, if I could go forever without having to ask for money for the October 15 event or Kylie's birthday or the March of Dimes, I would- I would support my own things in my own way. I just don't have the means. I've put a lot of money and time in each year, and I am NOT complaining- I wouldn't have it any other way. I just wish that the funds were more readily available.

I know some people don't mean anything by it, but I get so disappointed and hurt when the SAME people over and over again refuse to support anything I do, even if it is showing up for Kylie's birthday party or coming by the Family Fun Day for the MOD. If I invite someone, it's because I think a lot of them. I don't just invite random strangers. I invite people for a few reasons- one, I think it's something you might be interested in. Two- I don't want anyone to think I was intentionally leaving them out. Three- I know that it is a cause that has affected your life as well. Four- It is important to me and I want to share it with people who are important to me. I just wish that I knew that those people WANTED to support me, because people think that it's about donating $20s and $50s and $100s... when the big thing is to help spread the word, pass along the info, support us in our endeavors, and if you can scrounge up $2 in pennies, I'm all for it! $2 more than we had to begin with...

So in closing, I guess I'm just saying that I do need lots of support. Financial, emotional, everything. Every tiny little bit helps. Every bit.